Ubiquity
by Vamps-with-Wings
Summary: You are the dawn and the dusk. You are black and white. You are love and hate. You are forever and never. You are everything. You are everywhere. ONESHOT.


**Random oneshot to celebrate my return to FF? Sure.**

**There's not much of a point to this little story. It definitely doesn't follow a chronological order, or take place in or after any certain book. Everything, aside from the end, are just memories. They don't necessarily have to make sense in any one setting. They just are what they are.**

**I think, once you read the entire thing, there'll be less confusion. However, if you still have questions at the end, just ask.**

**Ubiquity**

_**Dawn**__: the first appearance of daylight in the morning_

My eyes were still heavy with sleep when they flickered slowly open. I immediately stifled a yawn, rubbing lethargic fingers down my face. The fire at my back had dwindled, sparse embers smoldering under a white coat of ash. A chill had begun to crawl up from my toes, like ice in my veins. I shifted, tucking my jacket closer to my torso. The motion didn't deter a shiver from quivering through my limbs.

The sky above was still dark, streaked through with gray. Through the tangle of leaves and branches, a brighter glow could be discerned; a halo forming on the horizon. Dawn was approaching, and wrestling along the sun's bright tendrils with it. Soon, the rest of the flock would need to be awakened. Breakfast would be made. Complaints would be submitted. I would ignore them.

It was a cycle.

I heaved a sigh, pushing myself into a sitting position. The younger kids were cuddled around each other, snoring in their haphazard way. Iggy was off to their right, sprawled in the dirt with his strawberry blonde head resting on his pack. Fang was nowhere in sight.

Quietly, I picked myself up off the ground. No one stirred at my movements. Glancing once more to make sure they were safe and accounted for, I tilted my head upward. At first, I didn't see him. There was a subsequent rustle of feathers that allowed me to pinpoint his location, though.

I smiled, shuffling through the undergrowth. Thorns snagged at my legs, and gnarled roots threatened to pitch me head first onto the hard packed earth. Eventually, I reached the base of a wide-trunked tree. Using my arms, I hauled myself onto its lowest branch. A minute later I was seated on a branch next to Fang.

He didn't speak at first, or give any sort of indication that he was aware of my presence. Instead, he continued to stare blankly at the sky, which was infinitely more visible from this vantage point.

"You let me sleep through my watch," I stated, tilting my head in his direction. A twisted blonde strand of hair fell onto my forehead, but I let it swing back and forth there.

He nodded, turning his obsidian irises on mine.

"You shouldn't have," I reprimanded him, narrowing my eyes.

He shrugged. "Wasn't tired."

I scoffed, ramming my shoulder into his. He shoved me back, smirking slightly. The sun was visible now, cresting over the distant treetops. It illuminated his sharp features, and sent streaks of amber through his eyes.

"Besides," he added, his calloused hand resting dangerously close to mine, "I like mornings better."

_**Dusk**__: the state or period of partial darkness between day and night_

The air was heavy with the scent of rain. The storm had long passed, though. Only the trickling of a few spare drops remained. They seeped into my clothes, spreading a cold across the surface of my skin. I didn't really mind. I just wanted to watch the sunset.

Dusk was probably one of my favorite times. The day, and all its excitements and horrors, everything coming to an end. There would always be a tomorrow; time for different circumstances and new memories.

"Max."

Sometimes, there was even enough time to make memories in between.

I turned, making room for Fang on the ledge. Beneath, a jumble of boulders and tapered rocks descended into the valley. My feet swung lazily in this empty space, unaffected by the steep drop. At my back, the cave dipped into the cliff. I could hear Angel and Nudge, playing one of their games. Iggy and Gazzy were most likely conspiring as well.

"We'll need more wood for the fire," Fang informed me, sitting so that his arm and thigh were pressed tightly to mine. I was all too aware of the warmth he was emanating. It sparked tingles everywhere he touched.

"Okay," I replied, hoping my voice didn't falter on that one, simple word.

I could feel Fang's penetrating gaze, locked scrutinizingly upon me. I swallowed thickly, curling and uncurling my hand into a fist. Suddenly, he reached out, closing his fingers over mine to stifle the movements. I stilled immediately, glancing sharply up at him. His dark head towered over mine, eyes hard with some unidentifiable emotion peeking through the cracks.

He began leaning in. I quickly looked away.

That didn't change how much my heart was palpitating.

_**Black**__: lacking hue and brightness; characterized by absence of light; enveloped in darkness_

That night, the sky was lacquered ink. Stars were sparse, and the moon was waned to a minimum. A thin veil of wispy clouds cloaked what little light it exuded. If Fang hadn't already possessed the ability to become invisible, I would have assumed he had just concocted the skill. I could barely make out his outline in the small clearing.

"Will you move or something?" I demanded, hissing through gritted teeth. My night vision was excellent, but I couldn't make out his features in such darkness.

As far back as I can remember, he had always worn black. I wasn't even sure how extensive his wardrobe had ever been, even back in the E-shaped house. It all seemed to blur in an array of black t-shirts and jeans, shoes and even _socks_.

Not to mention what genetics had bestowed upon him. That shaggy, always unruly black hair. His eyes. His deep, _dark_, baffling eyes. Even his olive toned complexion never paled.

Black, black, black, black, black. It never failed.

"Am I troubling you, Max?" he chuckled, a devious edge to his words. I took a step closer in his general direction, squinting harder. He wasn't going to psych me out. They didn't call me fearless for nothing.

"Shut up and quit being a jerk!" I quipped, taking another tentative step.

His teeth flashed in the darkness, and the rumble of his laughter filled the empty spaces of the surrounding area. I flung my arm into the abyss, fingers grasping for something- his own arm, the cloth of his shirt. My hands fell back to my side, useless.

"Fang?" I inquired hesitantly, moving my head slowly from one side to the other.

No response.

"Alright. You want to play games? Fine. Play by yourself. I'm going back to camp. Find some firewood, while you're at it," I ordered, clenching my jaw.

I had just spun around on my heel, when his lithe fingers closed around my wrist. I halted, rolling my eyes. Ooh, terrifying.

"Should I scream for effect?" I pondered aloud, smiling.

"There's no need," he whispered, directly into my ear. His breath was warm, and made my toes wriggle in my boots. Heat danced up my neck, stretching across my jaw. Humiliation at my reaction only boosted my blush.

I was never so grateful for the color black in my life.

_**White**__: a color without hue; light or comparatively light in color_

"I want a place that's all white for when we stay at Dr. M's."

Iggy's words, while seemingly harmless, had more of an impact than was probably necessary. His desire was understandable. The kid had been blind for the majority of his life, and had recently discovered a way to see. I would probably demand a white room if I were him, too.

Except he didn't want to help paint it, which meant Gazzy didn't either. Nudge had already been painting . . . her nails. Ella had a soccer game. Angel had previously committed plans with Total. Mom got called into work.

That left Fang and I.

We set off with a couple brushes, two gallons of 'pure' white paint, and a prearranged agreement to get this over with as soon as possible. At first, it went along perfectly as planned. I took one wall, he took another. The only sounds that could be heard in the small room were the bristling strokes of the paint brushes.

Then I started humming, loudly and extremely tunelessly. Of course, this peeved Fang off. His expression went from placid to stony in minutes. I noticed, but continued with my music-making. This could potentially be viewed as a mistake on my behalf, but one of my favorite past times was annoying Fang.

I couldn't let such a wonderful opportunity go to waste.

"Max," he ground out monotonously, latching his glaring, dark eyes onto mine.

I smiled innocently. "Yes, Fang?"

He glowered at me, and I could see how tightly clenched his jaw was. The muscles on his arm were wound tautly as well. I was surprised the iron grip he had on the wooden handle of his paint brush wasn't enough force to make it splinter in half.

Irritable, much?

I turned back to my wall, bending to dip my brush into the paint. From my peripheral vision, I could discern Fang still standing in the same position, glaring wordlessly at my exposed back. His brush was now slung loosely at his side, and a drop of paint was beginning to drip agonizingly close to hitting the floor.

"Fang, the paint!" I exclaimed, unconsciously throwing my hand out to point.

. . . The hand holding my own brush.

He snapped his eyes shut, wincing as he was splattered in white. My left hand flew to my mouth, and I tried as best as I could to stifle a laugh. It was an impossible venture though, and I unwillingly dissolved into a fit of giggles. The thin line of his mouth betrayed how utterly unamused he was.

The room remained half painted that day, much to Iggy's dismay.

In fact, by the end, I think Fang and I wore more white paint than what had been layered on the walls.

_**Love**__: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person; a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection_

The atmosphere was encompassed with the laughter of my flock. Azure skies stretched endlessly around us, a sea of space for feathered beings. The sun sparkled, radiating its warmth. Its rays burned against my exposed skin, and its heat made me slick with sweat.

But that was the least of my worries.

Nudge was swooping up, down, and side to side. Her arms cut jagged angles around her body, as she chanted unfamiliar words. Angel attempted to follow along with her obscure cheer formations, but eventually gave up; choosing instead to float above everyone on her angelically white wings. Nudge remained undeterred, explaining to anyone who would listen that she was going to be the first Dallas Cowboys cheerleader with wings.

_Right_.

Iggy and Gazzy were darting between everybody, tossing a football they had lifted from some poor kid's back yard. How Iggy managed to make a perfect catch every time was beyond me, but he was smiling and laughing and having fun. That was enough.

Fang was gliding along beside me, the corners of his mouth lifting as our eyes met. He felt it to: the untainted joy. Throughout everything that had transpired in our nightmarish lives, those few moments were a beacon of light amongst rubble. It reminded me of what I was fighting for. _Who _I was fighting for.

That's when I realized: this is it. This is what love really is.

_**Hate**__: to dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest_

They say hate is a strong word.

I think they're right, which is why I have no trouble saying:

I hate the School. I hate what they've done to me. I hate what they've done to my flock. I hate what they've done to all the other children whose lives they've ruined completely.

I hate Jeb Batchelder. I hate that he claims he's my father. I hate that he gave me up to experimentation. I hate that he abandoned us. I hate that he lied to us- to _me_. I hate that he thinks he can tell me what to do. I hate that he thinks he knows all the answers.

I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate, I hate. I hate so much. So much more. I could go on _endlessly_. There's so much wrong with the world. How am I supposed to fix it all? _I don't know how to fix it all_. I'm flailing. I'm doubting myself, and I shouldn't. I can't.

There are people that depend on me. I need to be strong. Why do I always have to be strong? _Why_?

Is this what a mental breakdown is? Am I going insane? Can you have a mid-life crisis when you're only fourteen? Is that possible?

I don't know. I DON'T KNOW.

"Max, calm down."

Fang pulled me into his arms, and I was snapped out of my reverie. Shaking my head, I glanced up at him through the curtain of my dirty blonde hair. He brushed it aside, tucking it behind my ear. I tried to thank him, but the words got caught in my throat along with everything else that I'd been bottling up inside of me since I was stupidly told to save the world.

Save the world. _Psh_. Whatever.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Fang asked, concern written plainly in the furrow of his brow. He was still holding me closely to him. The security of his embrace made it a little easier to function, though not by a wide margin. His proximity handicapped my ability to think in a different way entirely.

I rested my head on his shoulder anyway, letting him comfort me.

"No, I'm fine. I was just thinking about things I hate. That's all."

_**Forever**__: without ever ending; eternally; continually; incessantly; always_

"Do you believe in forever?"

". . . Do I _what_?"

"Never mind."

"You mean, like . . . time?"

"Yeah."

"As in the phrase 'nothing lasts forever'?"

"It's a bit redundant, but yes."

"Well . . . I guess. I mean, I never really thought about it. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Do _you_?"

"Not really."

"I have a feeling you're about to get all deep and profound on me."

"Just forget it."

"No. Why do you think there's no such thing as forever?"

"Because. You said it yourself, nothing lasts forever."

"That was just an example. Besides, you never listen to me."

"If you say so."

"I mean, lots of things are forever. Time. Time will go on forever. The universe keeps expanding, which will probably last forever. Gazzy's legendary farts. Sure, he might not be immortal himself, but his gas problems are infamous. You see my point?"

"Not arguing."

"You're the one who brought it up, anyway."

"I know. I also said to drop it."

"You're impossible."

"You're stubborn."

". . . Touche."

_**Never**__: not ever; at no time; to no extent or degree_

I've been told at lot of lies. I mean, _a ton_. The worst lie I've ever heard- the one that caused me the most grief, and pain, and suffering, and sorrow . . .

"I won't leave you again. Not ever."

That means _never_.

Yeah. And I'm a snow princess from freaking Narnia.

_**Ubiquity **__- the state or capacity of being everywhere, especially at the same time_

You are ubiquity.

You are the dawn and the dusk. You are black and white. You are love and hate. You are forever and never. You are _everything_. You are _everywhere_.

I can't look at a single damn thing without seeing your face. Everything reminds me of you, in the best and worst ways; the best of worst ways. Sounds, pictures, smells, images, colors, fabrics, tastes, touches- they all take me back to some past moment in time with you.

Memory. It's the one thing I can't escape. I can outrun Erasers, or Flyboys, or whatever other weird contraptions the School or any other organization throws at me. I can fight tooth and nail for my freedom from a cage. But I can't find release from what exists solely within my head. It's ever present, which means you are in consequence.

Tears are nothing. Emotions are futile. You can't see them. You don't care. _You don't care_. Did you ever? You say you did. I used to think you did. Now, I'm not so sure. I'm not really sure of anything, honestly. There's a fine line between sanity and insanity; between calm and chaos. I'm perched dangerously close between the two.

And you are there. You are on each side, calling to me. Forever and never, either black or white, in the dusk or in the dawn, whether through love or hate . . .

You are ubiquity.

**Did that totally suck? Sorry if it did. I posted the first chapter of the next big story I plan on working on, but I just felt like writing something else today. It happens.**

**Anyway: the end bit, in case you didn't catch the drift: was from Max's perspective, as if she was talking **_**to**_** Fang. The 'forever' part, is just some banter between the two. Fang speaks first, then Max, and so on. As for the rest, I think it's pretty uncomplicated.**

**Review?**


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